


Birthday Blowjobbery

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: Crack, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There actually can be such a thing as too much of a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Blowjobbery

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to celebrate Kirkpatrick's birthday. I might have been on crack at the time.

At first he thought it was a joke.

Lance came up to him in the kitchen, as Chris was fishing yet another bottle of Heinekin out of the fridge, and asked him if he wanted a blow job. "For your birthday," Lance had said, "you know, in addition to that trip to Mexico, it's just, you know, my way of saying happy birthday."

Chris laughed until they were in the bathroom and Lance was sucking him down like there was no tomorrow. Afterwards, Lance stood up, tucked Chris back into his jeans, kissed him lightly on the lips -- "Altoid?" he offered, popping one into his mouth, and Chris numbly accepted another and washed it down with his still-cold beer before he realized what he'd done, once Lance was out of the bathroom. Then someone was pounding on the door.

He opened the door, still dazed, and blinked when he saw JC on the other side of it.

"Hey, man, you mind?" JC shouldered past Chris, who was still leaning on the counter in a state of shock. Chris couldn't move his legs yet, so JC just shut the door and took a piss, then stepped around Chris again to wash his hands.

"Um," he said. Chris gave him a wary look.

"You, uh. Happy birthday," JC said, and kissed Chris.

"Holy shit," Chris said. By that time JC was making a slow torturous path down Chris's neck, pulling up his shirt and licking his nipples, and Chris gasped to realize he was getting hard again. _You're thirty-one fucking years old now, you're so past your prime_ he tried to tell his body, which was having none of it.

JC unbuttoned Chris's jeans and tugged them down, along with his boxers, in one swift motion. "This OK?" he asked, looking up at Chris, eyes large and round and dark in the harsh halogen light, and Chris nodded, wordless. JC grinned and licked up Chris's cock, tongue broad flat sandpaper rough from root to crown, and Chris moaned aloud, dropped his beer.

"Fuck, Chris," JC swore. The bottle hadn't hit him, but it was gurgling out all over the bathroom floor. Chris reached over, grabbing a towel from the rack, and threw it down on the floor. JC arranged it under his knees and went back to what he was doing. He was really good with his mouth, Chris thought dimly. JC's tongue could be registered as a lethal weapon, and he had a perfect sense of timing with the barest scrape of teeth on the sweet spot of the head of his throbbing dick, and holy fuck, he was coming again. JC licked him clean, then, standing, gave him a feline grin. Cat that ate the canary, Chris thought, except that he had semen daubing the corner of his mouth instead of feathers. He reached up and wiped JC's mouth clean with his thumb.

"Thank you," he said, dazed.

"My pleasure, man," JC grinned. "Happy birthday."

He left Chris in the bathroom after washing his hands again. Chris put the toilet seat down, locked the door, and sat there for several minutes trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Two of his bandmates had given him blowjobs in a span of under twenty minutes, and it was the first time in six or whatever, seven years that any of them had shown the slightest more-than-friendly interest in him.

Finally, yielding to the pounding on the door and unable to resolve the mystery, he cleaned up the spilled beer, tossed the towel in the tub, and stumbled out, heading to the back deck to get some cooler air into his lungs.

Justin was out there -- as were several other guests, but they were all in the hot tub, laughing and splashing each other, while Justin was alone, leaning on the railing. Chris figured Justin was safe, so he settled down next to him, folding his arms on the smooth wood.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Justin said, turning a little to smile at Chris, and lifted his beer. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks." Chris held his breath, a little scared that Justin would follow his words with an attack, the way the last couple declarations had gone, but Justin just drank from his bottle and turned back to face the yard again. Chris had a big backyard that dropped away into a ravine, heavy with trees, and Justin nodded in that direction. "Want to walk?"

Chris nodded. They headed down together; Justin threw a casual arm around Chris's shoulders, and Chris put his arm around Justin's waist and leaned his head on Justin's shoulder. Justin was safe. Justin was good. Justin would never do a thing like randomly attack him--

They had barely hit the treeline before Justin leaned Chris back against a tree, invading his personal space with a grin and coppery breath. "So I was thinking," he said, "since you've had some shitty luck with action lately--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Justin, the ladies love Cool Kirkpatrick." Chris backed away uneasily. The tree caught him up short. "You--"

"I wanted to make sure you had a happy birthday."

"You gave me that Harley. That pretty much cinched it right there." Chris fought the tone of desperation down. It wasn't that he, wait a second, was he turning down an offer of oral sex from Justin Timberlake? What was he, clinically insane? No, no, he chided himself, it was just too fucking strange--

"Let me, Chris. Please. I've been thinking about it for a month now." No one could be as charming as Justin when he turned it up, and Justin had the charm at full blast right now. Chris closed his eyes, whimpered, and nodded.

Justin was surprisingly good. Chris made a mental note to ask him where he'd learned to blow a guy so well, but then forgot himself the second Justin's wet finger teased around the tight muscle of his opening then slid in, gliding smooth as silk, and Chris threw his head back against the tree and bit his lip so hard it bled and came like a waterfall.

"Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ," he panted when he had his breath back.

"Justin fucking Timberlake," Justin corrected him with a grin, and pressed himself against Chris. He was hard; instinctively, Chris slid a hand to cover the thick bulge at Justin's crotch, and Justin hissed and ground against him, then pulled away.

"'M gonna go find Melanie," he said. "You OK?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm. I'm fucking great."

"Cool. Love you, man. Happy birthday." Justin leaned in and kissed Chris, softly, and pulled back to smile at him, then pulled Chris's pants back up and buttoned them before taking off.

It was a good ten minutes before Chris could get his knees working again. As he headed back towards the house, he resolved to go straight upstairs, find his bedroom, and lock the door. No more interruptions. Not that he was expecting any -- his universe had already tilted on its axis three times over tonight, and he wasn't sure he could handle a fourth twist--

"Chris!"

Chris ran. Unfortunately, Joey hadn't been drinking tonight, on account of preserving his voice for the show, and he caught up with Chris at the landing halfway up the stairs. "You OK?" he asked, and Chris relaxed, realizing that Joey was only concerned. Thank God.

"Yeah, man, just beat. Had too many beers, and just, you know. Old man, can't party hearty all night like I used to."

"Sure, sure." Joey's grin was soft, his eyes warm. "Here, let me give you a hand." He put an arm around Chris's shoulders, and Chris leaned gratefully into his warmth, letting Joey guide him upstairs. Wonderful Joey. Best Joey ever.

They made it down the hall, past a couple of bedrooms with obvious noise coming from within, and Chris guessed Justin had found his girlfriend after all. Then they were in his bedroom, and Joey was putting him down on the bed, tugging his shoes off, pulling off his shirt with efficient hands. Chris subsided into the mattress, sighing contentedly. "You're the best, you know that, man?"

Joey grinned, sitting down on the bed next to him. "Flatterer. So, hey, happy birthday." He ran a hand through Chris's hair, and Chris closed his eyes to savor the feeling of Joey's hand.

"Thanks. Ass."

When Joey's lips met his, Chris jumped, eyes flying open. The fucker had lulled him into a false sense of security for his own nefarious purposes--"Jesus, Joe!" he spluttered.

"What?" Joey pulled back, looking genuinely confused. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Get away from me!" Chris screeched, grabbing the blanket and holding it over his chest protectively. "Evil! Evil seducer!"

Joey stood up, eyebrows knitted. "Hey. Freakazoid. Chill the fuck out, man--"

"Everything OK in here?" Justin skidded in, looking rumpled with his shirt off and shorts undone, and JC was on his heels.

"Joey!" Chris pointed at him, finger shaking in fury, and Joey turned with wide eyes, hands raised to deflect the stares of the others. Now Lance was peering into the open door, too, staring at the tableau in confusion. "He's trying to seduce me! With his evil mind powers!"

"Well, fucking excuse me for wanting to cheer you up with a blow job on your birthday," Joey scowled.

As one, Justin and JC went perfectly, brilliantly red. Lance would have, too, except that he was already merrily red-cheeked from alcohol consumption.

Joey's eyebrows went up. "Wait a second. You."

"You?" Justin turned and stared at JC, who was shrinking back, only to bump into Lance.

"Uh." Lance raised his hand, giggling a little. "Me, too."

"Oh, holy fuck!" Justin stormed. "Dude, it was my idea!"

"I thought of it first!" Lance shot back.

"I've been planning it since last year--" JC put in.

"Wait! Whoa! Wait!" Joey had to flail his arms around, but finally the babble died down and they all looked at him again. Chris had calmed somewhat, eased back on the bed with the blanket still wrapped around his bare chest. "You. You all had the idea to give Chris a blowjob for his birthday."

"You, too," Lance accused, pointing a wavering finger at Joey.

"You mean," Chris said in some astonishment, "you all didn't plan this?"

"Fuck, no," Justin said. Then he glanced at the others, grinning. "If we had, it'd probably have ended up as group sex."

"Now there's an idea." JC raised a hand, but before he could say anything else, Lance had both arms around JC's waist and was pulling him backwards.

"Why don't we all get out of here," Lance said, "and leave Chris and Joey to whatever it is they're gonna do?"

Justin's blush went deeper crimson, and he grabbed at his sagging shorts, nodding. "'Night," he breathed, and darted out of the room; they could hear Melanie calling from down the hallway, and Lance and JC laughed as they stepped backwards, JC reaching out to pull the door shut as they went.

In the sudden stillness following the others' hasty departure, Joey took a deep breath and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Um," he said.

"So," Chris said.

"I, uh. I guess it's a no go on the birthday blowjobbery, huh?" Joey said, eyes on the floor.

"Well," Chris said.

Joey glanced up at him. Chris smiled a little, tossed the blanket aside.

"I wouldn't object to some birthday cuddling," he said. "And maybe we can see what happens after that."

Joey grinned and jumped on top of Chris.

"Happy birthday," he grinned, and kissed Chris's laughing mouth.


End file.
